Good Company
by MitziMartyn
Summary: Crime, SebaCiel, OC and all the good stuff. Recently added: Ciel Phantomhive finally found peace. But it might cost him his own life.
1. The Importance Of Being Polite

**Hello  
This is one of my very few English stories, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway. Yes, this story contains OC. It's going to contain lot of things. Murders, serial killers, crime, silly situations, SxC and all the jazz. I don't want to ber you with my blabbering so just... (hopefully) enjoy:)  
**

**Good Company**

**The Importance of Being Polite**

„Hey, laddie, what're ya reading?" asked a man, most likely about thirty years old, seemingly wrecked.

„A book. I think it's pretty obvious," I answered as politely as possible, although if there is something I really hate, it's interrupting me from reading.

The man frowned, knitting his unibrow.

„Cheeky, aren't ya? Ya should be taugh some manners."

I sighed and closed the book. This could be such a nice peaceful evening in the pub, but it's always the same – someone gets all aled up and decides to demonstrate his awesome kickass powers in a fight with someone who looks like an easy prey. Me, for example.

„Thanks for yer concern, but I'd rather discuss my behaviour with someone...uhm... sober?"

Well, probably not the smartest thing I've ever said.

Not even in the top 100.

„I'll lick ya into shape, twat!"

I wish I knew why everyone assumes that their blabbering is funny, interesting or whatever for me. It's not. Trust me.

I hid the book in my coat – the cover was already worn out – another blood stains weren't neccessary.

„So what?" I asked. „Are ye goin' to actually do something?"

Surprisingly – he was. I dodged in the last second, or it would... hurt. I reached for the knife in my pocket and stabbed his shoulder. Not a good idea, it only made him angrier. Everyone in the pub was staring at us – not that anyone seemed to be 'bout to help. Human nature.

The man let out a hiss of pain and thrusted me against the wall. Someone started to bet on the winner. Nice.

Knife fell from my hand as he was strangling me. I was quickly runnin out of breath and ideas, so I stamped on his foot. He eased his grip - this allowed me to pick up my knife and attack again. That bastard bent aside so I missed, but he lost balance. I took on the chance, grabbed one of bottles standing on the barpult and smashed it over his head.

Man's body made a loud 'THUD' as he lost his his concscioucness.

Barman looked at me and I knew that he's about to throw a wobbly.

„Fred..."

„Frederick," I corrected him.

„Fred, this is the fourth time this week and it's only Wednesday! Who do you think will pay for his drinks? And the bottle you broke, hm?"

„Listenin' to ye I would almost think it's my fault!" I snapped.

„If you didn't provoke him and just tried to be polite -"

„I'm always polite, but everyone is picking quarrels with me all the time, so what?"

„I don't care whose fault is it," grumbled Sean, „but I want my money."

„Just check his pockets." He would do it anyway.

Sean seemed tobe really narked this time – 'kay, he always looks angry, but now he looked a bit angrier than angry.

„Frederick Martyn, if youever dare to show that stupid grin of yours here again, youare dead. Seriously."

Yeah, he's always serious. That may be the reason why it's impossible for him to get a nice girl. Or maybe it's just because he's ugly as hell.

„Sean, ye can't-"

„I can. Get out of my pub!" he yelled.

We stared for a painfully long minute at each other.

„All right," I said finally and let, muttering words that ladies don't know and gentlemenmaybe do, but won't say aloud.

I strode out to the rain.

„Sean, ye prannet," I mumbled angrily. It simply couldn't get wor...

„Frederick Martyn, aren't you?" said unfamiliar voice behind me.

Sorry, it could get worse.

Ladies and gentlemen, let me give ye all just a little piece of priceless advice. If ye're walking home through unlit streets in the middle of the night and someone ye don't know calls yer name...run. Run for yer life.

At least I tried to.

I passed by Sean's pub and ran to the nearest end of East End. Streets were – except for a few prostitutes, thieves and drunkards – empty.

After few minutes I felt safe again and stopped to catch my breath. Then the voice appeared again, accompanied by tall, elegant man.

„I am very sorry if i made you feel uneasy, Mr. Martyn, but I would like to talk to you."

He was smiling and spoke in very friendly manner – however, I was certain that I won't like that 'talk' at all.

„So... what do ye want? And who are ye?"

„My name is Sebastian Michaelis and I am the butler of Earl Phantomhive. I amhere to offer you a job."

Maybe ye wouldn't believe it, but I found this whole situation kinda suspicious. The best offer ye can get in this part of London is 'give me all your money and you can keep your life'. And I really didn't like this guy. But on the other hand I needed a job quite desperately as I was unemployed for some time and workhouse is never too far here...

„Can I... hypothetically... reject?" I asked grimly, already sure with the answer.

„Of course. But it wouldn't be the most intelligent decision."

Just as I thought. I couldn't reget. „And what kind of job is it?"

He smirked. „Hardly anything to worry about. My master needs someone for the position of a coachman and stable boy."

„Sounds... legal."

…

….

…..

I have been told many times to be less paranoid.

I wasn't paranoid enough.

Not even close.

* * *

I had no idea who is that Earl Phantomhive, but I'm pretty certain he didn't know me as well – so why would I give a toss?

But his house was... amazing. It looked more like a castle to me.

„How many people live 'ere?" I asked. A decent army would still have more than enough space here.

He looked at me, quite surprised by my question. „Seven, including you."

„Only seven? Are ye fuckin' kidding me?"

No, seriously. In the East End of London it's more than usual that many families share one tiny and filthy room without any privacy or such.

„It is more than enough. And, please, watch your language."

Unlikely to happen. My choice of words reflects perfectly my opinion 'bout this situation. English is not even my first language, so I'm more than happy when I am able to express myself at least somehow. I beg ye to pardon my mistakes as I know that I'll give ye plenty of better reasons to laugh at me anyway. Sebastian showed me around a bit, but I don't remember much as I was tired as hell. I have only vague memories of what happened after – I just remember that he led me to a small chamber where I immediately fell asleep.

When I woke up, I suffered a small panic attack. Where am I? How did I get there? What the hell is going on? But only a few moments later I calmed down. I knew that I was deep in trouble and that I didn't feel the need to know anything else at the moment.

The room (my room... unbelievable, my own room...) was rather small, sunny, with simple furniture and a bouquet of dry lavender hanging on the wall.

I heard knocking at the door. „C-come in?" I said, though it turned out more like a question. Fortunately it was just Sebastian. He told me that it's about the time to meet other servants in the house. I didn't know what to expect, but they seemed to be nice. A bit weird, but nice.

Then I was introduced to my duties and everythin' went very well, 'cause I've been doing all this stuff around horses for my dad, who used to be a cab-driver.

Everything looked perfect. But that seemingly flaweless situation only excited my suspicions. And I still had no idea what is Earl Phantomhive like. As Sebastian refered to him as to „Young Master", he must have been probably under the age of twenty-one. On the other hand, if he ran with such a success Funtom (Freak? Funny? Furry? Freddy? ...I really don't remember names...) Company all on his own, he couldn't be too young. Then there was the nuber of people in the house. Maybe Young Master was one of those solitary weird spiders... or even better – he could be affected by a rare, but awful disease, so he decided to live away from society... or... or... No, no one can imagine how many ideas I had 'bout the mysterious master. My curiosity always gets the best of me. Actually – I was dying to meet him!

Not like I was the first to di...whoops, spoiler.

I finished my work and Sebastian left to do whatever the hell is he actually doin' here. I just wandered through the house, trying to deduce something 'bout its owner. I spotted a huge painting in the corridor – in the picture I could see a young, rather handsome man and a pretty young lady with golden locks. Now, count with me – seven people in the house, including me – Young Master, Sebastian, a gardener, a cook, a steward, a maid and I. Considering the clothes the portraited couple wore, the painting couldn't be older than five or six years, but who was the lady then?  
It was clear as day! It couldn't be anyone, but Young Master's wife/fianceé who died under tragical circumstances! He, unable with all that grief over the death of his true love, hid himself from the world, decided to spend the rest of his life mourning for the lovely being he lost. I read something similar in one novel before.

As I was observing the picture I noticed the sound of footsteps. I turned around and faced a child with delicate features and cold eyes. Wait... a child? Oh my, the story was gettin' more and more interesting. We were staring at each other and the situaton was getting more and more awkard with every second.

„H... hey," I said, not sure what was I supposed to do.

„So you are the new one?" He sighed.

„Well, of course, and who are ye?" I wanted to retort, but changed my mind. „Uhm, yeah, most likely," I answered instead.

„So what are you doing here? Don't you have anything to do?" Jeez, such a brat.

„And shouldn't ye be at school?" I muttered silently, but unfortunately he still heard it. As well as Sebastian who appeared like a ghost just a few centimetres behind me. I kind of sensed that I should 'ave controled myself a wee bit better.

„Martyn, would you mind granting me a few moments of your precious time?" asked the butler, his voice as sweet as a poison. I really should learn the wonderful art of „shut the fuck up".


	2. The Hound of the Phantomhives

The Hound of the Phantomhives

I would never guess that the butler is able to scold someone so harshly without rising voice even a little bit. I also wouldn't expect a child to run a company. We learn somethin' new every day and, hell, I had a lot to learn yet.

In order to avoid more embarrassing situations I decided to have a little rande-woo - or how do the frogs call it - with my book - 'The Study in Scarlet' and I was dyin' to find out who is the murderer. I like reading, especially crime stories, 'cause they every time 'ave perfect solution and the detective always catches the criminal before the author runs out of pages! It's a miracle, if ye ask me.

So I opened the book and forgot 'bout the rest of the world for a while.

_No footsteps could be heard in young master's study, as the butler was walking as quietly as a ghost, a tray in his hands. The scent of the finest Chinese tea filled the air in the twinkling of an eye and Ciel's face was the perfect image of anticipation when the butler poured him a cup of the fragrant liquid. Soft smirk played on Sebastian lips. No matter what happened during the day, his master never failed to amuse him with his slightly childish impatience over something so silly as tea. They've been repeating their little ritual every day for two years and it would be easier to persuade a river to stop its flow than Ciel Phantomhive to do without his cup of tea.  
_

„_Young master, your afternoon tea has been prepared, accompanied with a vanilla icecream and strawberries. Also, there is a letter from Her Majesty, addressed to you."_

„_Is that so?" Ciel raised an eyebrow, but he seemed to be more interested in the dessert Sebastian placed on his table._

„_A young maiden was found dead in her bed, but there is not a single trace to the one who or what could have killed her and why. It troubles Her Majesty very much, or so it is written in the letter. The victim was found two days ago. It seems that we have something to do with a cunning killer or an unknown illness."_

„_It will have to wait until tomorrow, we would not be in London before the dinner. But tell that... man, that he is taking us there in the morning. We will have to see the crime scene and interview victims' families – if they have one, of course." The boy sighed. He had lot of work to do, but when the Queen called him, he had to obey like a good loyal dog. _

_The driver was sitting outside, absolutely absorbed by the book in his hands._

„Frederick."

No reply.

„Martyn."

The butler now felt ignored and he didn't like it one bit. 

„Idiot."

„What? 'ow long are ye 'ere?" Pft... he almost caused me a 'eart attack. Seriously, he can't just walk around, insult people and such! I started to really dislike this guy, but at the same time I had that strange feelin' it's mutual.

„Long enough. You should learn how to pay attention. Tommorrow at daybreak be prepared. You are taking young master to London." He gave me a piece of paper. „This is the address."

I read it quickly. „Aye, I know this street. Some business 'ere?"

„That is none of your concern. But young master was given a task by Her Majesty – to catch the killer or killers that hide themselves in the maze London is."

„Murder? Ye... seriously?" I couldn't hide my excitement. „Young master solves crimes? Like Sherlock Holmes?"

He looked at me as if I went insane. „Who?"

„The greatest detective ever! That's absolutely fantastic! Please, pretty please, can I go with ye?"

Everythin' I maybe had against young master seemed to be pointless now, 'cause when ye're a detective, ye're awesome. Seriously.

„Well, you are taking us there," he replied smoothly.

I gasped. „A killer, young master solving crimes and I can go with ye? Christmas is 'ere early!" If I liked the butler a wee bit more, I'd hug him immediately.

His smirk cooled down my enthuasism a little. „So excited about someone's death? That is not very polite or tasteful."

„Ye're right," I bowed my head in well-played shame. Sebastian left and I was all alone again just with my thoughts. I started to laugh uncontrollably. There was an adventure waiting, so who cares 'bout damn courtesy?

…...

I woke up very early the next day (or Earl-y? … sorry... Er...really a bad pun. Forgive me, I can't help it.) and prepared the carriage. God, how impatient I was! Mayhaps there was no need to be that impatient. Probably years passed before the Earl arrived. Okay, probably not years, but definitely hours. Or somethin' like that. I 'ave no sense of time.

It took ages to get from the mansion to London.

Rain that lasts for forty days was called a disaster in Noah's homeland. In England it's called summer. It was rainin' heavily all the way to London and roads were in the worst state possible.  
When we arrived I was completely soaken, but I finally stopped the carriage in front of a huge elegant house.  
Young master and the butler were just 'bout to get inside.

„Hey, Sebby, spare a few seconds for me, can ye?"

„Please, refrain from calling me 'Sebby'. What do you need?"

I made myself bold to say: „Ye said I could go to the crime scene too."

The butler shook his head in disapproval. „Certainly not. I said 'you are taking us there'."

The most irritating thing ever! I hate it when people fuck up with words like this. I am always overly happy myself when I'm able to express my thoughts in a way people understand. English is a fucked up language and its only excuse is existence of Shakespeare.

„Pft... 'kay. Can I go with ye?"

„No, you cannot. I hope you understand that your question is absolutely out of place. Stay here and at least try not to cause any problems."

„Me? Causin' troubles? That's impossible," I muttered gloomily. That was so damn unfair!

He just smirked in that irritating fashion I loathed so much and followed young master into the house.  
Now – just to make myself clear – I didn't sneak inside. Such a revolting idea would never ever cross my mind! Although nobody has locked the back door.  
I merely went inside to... uhm... find someone responsible and explain to him or her that leaving the bacl door unlocked isn't all together so wise, 'cause whoever can enter the house – and there are some horrible people outside!  
Well, to be honest, I sneaked inside. Everythin' was quiet and noone was to be seen in any of the corridors.  
I heard young master's voice and the way of his speakin' led me to the conclusion that he's interviewing the victim's family.

_Earl Phantomhive slightly shifted in his seat. The victim's family – her name was Laura Crowley – seemed to be still deeply in shock and grief over the death of their younger daughter, but they also did not know anything useful._

„Do you know if she happened to have any enemies? Someone who might profit from her death?" Ciel asked with the best mask of sympathy he could manage.

„No, there was nobody," replied her sister Margaret. „She is... she was the nicest girl, kind and honest. Unless..."

„Unless?" the boy repeated seriously, hoping that they finally hit the spot.

„We were both to be married in a few months... I am engaged to one truly honourable gentleman and we all thought that Laura's fiance is the same, but it has been a fortnight since he broke up with her and left to Scotland or Wales, I really do not know. Of course, maybe it does not have anything to do with... what happened to Laura." Margaret's mournful eyes were fixed at Ciel. „Please, find my sister's murderer."

Mister Crowley frowned, his lips forming a thin strict line. „Of course it is his fault. He will pay dearly for my little girl."

His wife did not say anything. Only her hands were shaking visibly as she was mindlessly folding and unfolding her handkerchief over and over again. 

Pft... they were strivin' to bore me to death. I never believe a person without enemies. If ye haven't got any enemies... they ye probably killed them all.  
I know I should've returned to the carriage immediately, but I went upstairs instead. I was lucky enough to find Laura's room quickly. Mayhaps my actions can't be described as completely legal, but on the other hand... my curiosity always wins over my common sense.  
Nothin' seemed to be out of order.  
Single bed, few photos on the wall, a porcelain doll on the window, kinda ugly yellow flowers on the table – just normal stuff, I suppose.

I checked out her table, but once again nothin' special – only a bunch of letters tied together with a pink ribbon. I had no interest in readin' damn sugary sweet lovey-dovey blabberin'.  
Then I moved to her cabinet and... bingo.  
There are things ye don't want to find in yer girlfriend's or daughter's room. Tiny baby clothes for example. I was under the impression that she was kinda lookin' forward to the baby. Each piece of the clothing she prepared for it was made by hand and decorated with care and taste.  
I'd love to stay for longer – too bad I knew that if Sebastian or young master appeared, I'd be in hot water.  
Thanks God I managed to sneak out unnoticed – or so I thought.

We returned... home. Young master left with Sebastian and I had to take care 'bout horses. 'kay. Most of time my mind danced 'round the case. I felt I was close.  
I went back to my room as I had finished my work, but I had no chance to reache my destination without difficulties.  
I swore to myself some time ago that I'll try to avoid the butler as much as possible, 'cause I didn't trust him at all, although if ye'd ask me why, I wouldn't be able to explain.  
We met when I was passing by the kitchen. He seemed to be just as uptight as usually.

„Martyn, for a word," he said. „What were you doing in Crowleys' house? Would you mind telling me?"

I had exactly five seconds to give him a proper answer.

„... I was curious."

Not the right one, I suppose.  
The butler sighed, rubbing his temple as if he felt a headache coming. I 'ave no idea why.

„I will tell you a story about a young man who was quiet, polite and did what he was told to do."

„..."

„Do you understand?"

„Nope, I'm waitin' for that story," I replied honestly.

„Your stupidity is truly something out of this world," he said with a smile.

„Ye said that aloud."

„I intended to. I hope you understand that this is not to happen ever again. Next time you will just stay in the carriage and wait for us."

I know when the game is over – never!

„One question... please. 'ow did she die?" I was almost beggin' for answer. Almost. I said 'please'.

„Well, it seems that she fell victim to an unknown poison."

Man, I can't tell how excited I was – so fuckin' close to the one and only possible solution...

„Do ye know something 'bout her health condition? Somethin' unusual?" I spoke really quickly, unable to slow down, as my mind was practically racing.

He seemed to be kinda surprised by my question, but – yeah – he answered again.

„If you mention it, according to her mother miss Crowley felt for past weeks quite dizzy and nauseous. Why do you ask?"

I couldn't suppress my enthusiasm. „'cause I think I know what happened."

„Thinking hardly comes within your purview as it seems that you are incapable of it. It is quite plain that her fiance has done it."

His neverendin' insults really went on my nerves.

„Fine! But ye're wrong, so just sit somewhere in yer wrongness and be wrong!" I left, muttering curses under my breath.

By this time ye may be able to solve it yerself. Enjoy.


	3. I Dreamed a Nightmare

**She dreamed a dream**

_Young master dwelled in the worst state possible – boredom. The case of Laura Crowley was far too simple for his delicate taste that preferred mysteries of supernatural kind – the real excitement. Ciel Phantomhive was surely one hell of a player, but he had no interest in simple games.  
He left it up to his loyal butler, giving him more time that necessary, although he probably already had Laura's fiance, mister Pyne, in one of those comfortable cells that served as quite satisfying lodgings for criminals.  
Sebastian knocked at the door of Ciel's study, bringing him a piece of cake and a piece of some bad unexpected news, according to his facial expression. Young lord beckoned him to speak up._

„Young master, it seems that our main suspect's alibi is bulletproof as he himself fell a victim to his rather libertine lifestyle. Just the same day when he broke the engagement he met his death in one of London's houses of questionable reputation."

Ciel looked at his butler, trying to imagine how could something like this happen. „How did he die?" asked the young earl finally.

Sebastian smirked, amusement clearly visible in his handsome features. „It was merely an accident. If I remember correctly, it had to do something with a scarf, a whip and his collection of stuffed animals. I hope that you do not wish me to explain this any further. On the other hand..." Ciel realised how uncomfortable close his butler is at the moment. „...I am willing to go great lengths to keep my master... entertained."

Finally. The words I've been longing for for ages came at last, soundin' ways sweeter from Sebastian.

„You said I was wrong. It seems that your words were true."

He wasn't happy 'bout it one bit. Fine with me.

„Well... mayhaps I really said somethin' like this, can't deny it..."

I was doing my work in stables when he decided to admit his wrongness (Is 'wrongness' even a word? Not that sure...). I felt like a maiden who just heard that her prince charming loves her and intends to marry her. Except that Basti is anythin' but charming and that I find an unsolved mystery far more interesting than relationships. My bliss was complete when he said the most beautiful words someone like me can hear.

„I would like to hear your opinion."

„My 'onest opinion?" I asked slowly. „'cause I'm so damn sure ye won't like it at all..."

Yep, he was visibly impatient and although I was aware o' it, it still didn't prevent me from playin' with him.

„It would be truly appreciated if you could present me your point of view."

„Firstly, ye should really work on yer detective skills, ye're even bigger amateur than me. If ye or young master bothered to go and check her room just like I did-"

„You did not have the permission to enter the house and your only luck is that none witnessed you actions," he interrupted me dryly.

„Aye, mayhaps, but unlike ye I know how and why is she currently restin' in a custom made coffin. She was poisoned. Accidentally."

„Accidentally?" his eyebrows raised so much that I almost expected that it will leave his face and stop somewhere near the ceiling.

„Just as I said. She was poisoned with a common rue. I doubt ye know these things, but prostitutes and other... girls in troubles sometimes use it. It's and... I'm not sure if it's the right word... abortive?"

„You mean that she was pregnant?"

„I do. Seriously, ye were so convinced her fiance did it that ye ignored everythin' important – like motive, opportunity... Yer method is bad and ye should feel bad!"

Ehm. Mayhaps I should have been less critical. Weren't he so desperate to get the killer, he would probably commit a murder himself and I wouldn't live long enough to tell.

„Of course. Do you – with your superior intellect – think that she by a mistake killed herself?"

„Nope, she was intendin' to keep the baby. She prepared for it a beautiful layette – stitch by stitch. Would ye do it for a child ye don't want? I fancy that I know who has done it, but it'd be helpful to get some more informations first. Just for sure. Please, Basti, I know I can solve it, if ye only give me the chance. That's all I ask o' ye."

I waited for his answer, bitin' my lower lip out o' nervosity. The butler hesitated.

„Exactly how sure are you about your solution?"

Time to be 'onest. „Twenty-five percent. That's still more than ye have yerself. But if ye answer me some questions..."

His expression was unreadable, but it seemed that I got his attention.

„Go on. I doubt that this will be of any help, but feel free to ask."

„Can ye stop insultin' me at least when I'm tryin' to help ye, Basti?"

„Firstly, refrain from calling me 'Basti', secondly, you are not trying to help me, but you are merely striving for satisfaction of your morbid curiosity."

„Fine, I'm a freak. What do ye know 'bout miss Crowley's – Margaret, not Laura – fiance? Is he a gentleman? Does he belong by any chance to nobility?"

He just nodded, probably a bit confused by my seemingly random questions.

„Her sister is the killer, ye're lookin' for. I'm pretty certain that Laura wanted to share her 'appines – bittersweet 'appines, if ye ask me – with someone. Two sisters, 'bout the same age... it is only natural she told her. But Margaret soon realised that such a scandal would affect all o' them and that her own fiance may leave her 'cause o' it... She decided to make her sister to lose the child, but the dose was too big and ye know the rest. When I was in Laura's room, I noticed a vase full o' kinda ugly yellow flowers. Ruta graveolens – or rue, if ye like. It's quite a common flower and if ye know somethin' 'bout it, the whole case is clear."

I explained it as simply as I could, knowin' that it makes perfect sense and that even Basti can't deny the possibility. Mayhaps he was even able to understand, although his expression was proving me otherwise.

„Just think 'bout it. I know it hurts."

Okay... I insulted him in so many different ways that I could only pray my solution is right. Morbid curiosity or not, I still happened to stake my reputation.  
He left without a word.

_They – Ciel, Sebastian and Margaret – were in the sitting room, all of them staying silent.  
Finally she broke the suffocating silence._

„I had no idea it could kill her. I only wanted to get rid of our family's shame." She seemed to be so calm. Back straight, hands folded in her lap, sober expression. „But I thank you, sir. I asked you to find her murderer and you really did. I only regret that my dearest sister is dead. My intentions were good."

Margaret was trying hard to keep her calmness and dignity, although little sparkles of tears in her eyes told them completely different story.  
Young nobleman stayed unimpressed. „Your intentions were selfish, nothing more." He looked like a cherub sitting on a throne. „But it is just a humans' nature to act this way. To sacrifice everything for their goals. I am not to judge you."

The butler smirked as he found his little master's speech quite amusing.

_„Young master, the police is here."_

The girl with golden locks stood up, sad smile gracing her beautiful lips. „Very well. Then let us welcome them warmly."

I saw her when I was waitin' for young master to return. It's not like I approve o' what has she done, but she – without a doubt – had style 'til the very end.

In the evenin', after I finished my duties in stables I found a key on my pillow, along with a small piece o' paper attached to it.

_3rd floor, the door at the end of the hallway. Use reasonably. _


	4. Fifty Shades Of Gay

**Fifty Shades Of Gay**

I unlocked the door and peeked inside. The room was dark, save for a small lamp bringin' a bit o' light.  
I walked in, closed the door and looked aroung. I realised that I'm in the library. Well played, Basti, well played. I thinkg I forgot to breathe for a second. It was just like a dream. Heavy smell o' auld paper filled the air. I've hardly ever felt so happy before.

„Well," I muttered to myself, „this is goin' to be a long night."

_„I wish you a peaceful night, young master," said the butler, tucking his Earl to bed._

The boy did not answer, only his cold blue eyes were fixed on Sebastian, observing him.

„Is there something troubling you, my lord?" he asked with a hint of curiosity and leaned down to brush a few strand of silky hair out of his young lord's forhead. The touch lingered for a second longer than it should have.

„Stop this. I do not need your fake concern."

Sebastian's lips curled into his typical smirk. „So this is it? Is it that hard to believe that I honestly care for your well-being?"

„You care only for my soul."

„So mature, yet so childishly naive at times. My master is the highest priority person for me. All of my actions and thoughts are devoted to you as I am tied to you by our contract – and this bond is much stronger than any of those known to humans. I hope one day you will finally understand – after all, it would be lovely if my concern – my affection – was not one-sided... but it is not, am I right?" he said with a perfectly calm expression as if he was talking about tomorrow's breakfast.

„Stupid demon."

„That was not a 'no'."

Ciel averted his eyes from the butler, whose gaze became too intimidating for his comfort.

The demon chuckled. „So my little lord has really developed feelings for his humble servant? How adorable. May I make myself bold to kiss you now, young master?"

Then he reached out his hand and stroked gently boy's cheek as soft as a kitten's paws. Such a glorious sight was young Earl blushing, although you could see him try to look collected, to keep his poker face. He would maybe fool a common observer, but Sebastian knew better...

„Just let me have a taste," the raven-haired man continued smoothly, „allow me to get to know you... deeper."

He leaned down, brushing his lips against Ciel's. Although the touch was so feathery light that it almost wasn't even a touch, Ciel felt his lips, kissed for a very first time, burning.  
The last desperate attempt to keep his dignity.

„What on Earthd do you think you are doing, you cat-obsessed moron?"

That question was supposed to sound firmly and coldly, yet it lacked something essential, so the result was nothing but a small shocked cry.  
Sebastian smirked gleefully. His young master was sometimes so amusing, so delectable in his helplessness. But he still did not protest, he did not order him to leave, so he probably enjoyed their little situation a bit as well.

The butler sat on the edge of the bed, mindlessly stroking his master's tiny fragile hand.

„I would like you to grant me a wish, if you do not mind," he said after a while, gazing into Ciel's mismatched eyes.

„You are not allowed to keep a cat, if you mean that," retorted the Earl briskly.

„Young master, you wound me. I am talking about something completely diff-".

_He was not given the opportunity to finish his sentence, because Ciel's mouth over his own quite prevented him from any more speaking. His little contractor in a nutshell – always ready to surprise.  
For once Sebastian could not complain, instead he allowed his hands to sneak around Ciel's delicate frame.  
Maybe the boy resebled a doll made of the finest porcelaine, but his body felt so warm... no, hot under demon's talented fingers.  
His nightshirt – way too big – revealed boy's snow white shoulder and Sebastian did not hesitate to mark it with a passionate kiss.  
Ciel was not one to lose self-control easily, but the tiniest whimper escaped his lips anyway._

„You wanted to ask for something," he said out of sudden.

„When you mention it, indeed I wanted," the butler replied, holding the boy in his arms.

„What was it?" Young Earl seemed to be curious.

„Are you willing to give it a try, not matter what I say in a second?"

Ciel licked his lips, nodding slowly. „I am willing to think about it."

Sebastian lowered his lips to the other's ear and whispered seductively. „My lord, I want to see you doing it... in front of me... on your own... just by yours hands... I want to see my master tying his shoes. Without. Any. Help."

I woke up abruptly in the library, where I obviously fell asleep. I looked around, feeling kinda dizzy, my mind full o' fuck. Literally.

„... the hell I just dreamed?"


	5. Good Company: Behind The Scene

**You foolish mortals thought, that I am done with Frederick's adventures? I thought so as well, but I grew rather fond of watching Kuroshitsuji from his point of view and so you can expect new stories. In the nearest future you will get a deeper insight into rules of Phantomhive household and I hope you will enjoy your tour.  
As a little gift to everyone, who is reading this I wrote a little something about what's happening behind the scenes... **

Ciel's_ slender fingers were playing with a black chess piece, as his mind has left already the paperwork in front of him.  
Suddenly he turned to Sebastian._

„Do you know what fangirls really want?"  


_The coal-haired (yes, coal, because raven black is too mainstream in this fandom) man replied smoothly: „According to my researches, they want to see us indulging in various scandalous activities. Frankly – they wish to see us fuck."_

„Just as I thought," young master nodded, keeping his uninterested expression.

„What shall we do about it, my lord?"

The boy smirked. „We will carry on building sexual tension. This ensures that fangirls' imagination will run wild and they will keep on reading."

„As you wish, young master. Brilliant plan.

Awkward silence filled the room.

„After all, I am engaged. And I am only thirteen."

„According to Frederick, you are only eight, if I recall correctly. And he is the narrator."

„Yes, that is also true, however, he is an idiot."


	6. The Green Velvet Band

**Good Company – Family Matter**

**Chapter I. - The Green Velvet Band**

Over the years, I came to the conclusion that women are nice to look at and that a smart one might brighten up yer life, but they'll 'ardly satisfy ye in the way only a good old-fashioned adventure can.  
For short – crime over bitches.  
I'm no saint. There were some . . . interestin' characters in my life, but no matter how much I was convinced that this girl was the one, I could never get someone I really wanted. It took ages 'til I found my one.  
But this ain't the story 'bout realisin' my fondness o' one's sweet voice and soft 'air, but 'bout the most fucked-up case I've ever seen.  
This ain't a pretty tale.

„Now repeat – the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain."

„Why? First o' all, there aren't many plains in Spain, secondly, who gives a fuck?"

My evenings in a nutshell. Basti says that it's necessary to teach me how to speak and behave 'correctly'.

I disagree.

Anyway, he comes every evenin' to give me 'lessons', but it's pointless, as we always end up arguin'. It ain't 'cause I'm always right, but 'cause he's always wrong.

On the other 'and, I was, in a very twisted sense o' this world, grateful.

Ye know – the Phantomhive mansion looks all cool and stuff and I knew that it's full o' mysteries to be cracked, however... I was bored outta my mind, wishin' desperately for somethin' interestin' to occur.

„The lesson is not over until you put rain into Spain. Preferably in the plain."

„Rain was invented by English, right?"

Interestin' fact 'bout Sebastian: If ye manage to play stupid for long enough, hell leave ye alone.

„Most likely it is, but this is not the point."

Yeah, the slightest 'int o' impatience in his voice – soon he'll surrender... or so I thought.

„Anyway, as young master is expecting guests to come tomorrow, you will either get your accent right or I will have to ask you to refrain from speaking altogether."

„Guests?"

Guests? In this painfully borin' mansion?

„Yes, indeed. Young master invited one of his business partners and his family to spend the weekend here."

„Someone is comin' 'ere voluntarily? Oh dear... Do ye know them? Are they interestin'?"

„Mr. Cornfield is a very honourable gentleman."

„So... no, they aren't. Right?"

…

No, they really weren't. I was sent with a carriage to pick them up on the train station. Four people – Mr. Cornfield, red-faced man in his forties, his wife, gaunt and ugly in her overly decorated purple dress, their daughter, goin' by the name Evangeline, bleak fat blondie in ill-fittin' dress and... that girl.

I don't believe in angels, demons or anythin' like that, but she looked like a fae.

It was obvious that she ain't from the family, 'cause she was beautiful. She was miss Evangeline's maid.

Her cat-like eyes shone like Bohemian glass in a 'eart-shaped face framed by jet-black curls. Even after all that time I remember the exact shade o' the ribbon she wore in them. Green. Velvet green.

Now I know I was an idiot, missin' everythin' important.

Well, anyway, I brought them to the mansion where young midget (also known as Bratman) and Basti were awaitin' them. My awesome self left to take care 'bout the 'orses.

_Everything ran smoothly. Mr. Cornfield proved himself to be anything but troublesome as long as he had his glass full and Earl Phantomhive soon realised that he does not have to partake in their conversation, because his guest probably viewed himself as a man born to lead monologues – all about hunting and fishing, so nothing interesting for the boy._

_Sebastian saved him from falling asleep by announcing that the dinner is ready to be served._

_Ciel Phantomhive possessed many many useful qualities – intelligence, courage, logical thinking..._

_However, that evening he was mostly grateful for his acting skills, allowing him to hide how strongly he dislikes Mr. Cornfield and his family._

_He knew that the weekend spent with them will be wasted, but he also knew how important it is to strengthen bonds with his business partners._

_So he was just sitting there, quietly suffering._

_After the dinner he suggested a game of bridge, but miss Evangeline excused herself for she was not feeling well and wanted to go to bed. The boy mentally groaned. He wished to retire as well, but he could not disappear when he had important guests to entertain._

We 'ad tons o' fun downstairs. For once I didn't forget to come down for the dinner, 'cause I was curious 'bout miss Evangeline's maid and I knew she'll be there.

'kay, to be 'onest, I didn't even know my colleagues much by that time, as since Basti gave me the key to the library, my will to socialise became only theoretical. Yeah, they seemed to be nice, but the more I know people, the more I love books.

Anyway, we had fun, especially since Basti left.

Time to admit it – I 'ave no idea what were we talkin' 'bout. I was just sitting there, starin' at the black-haired maid like the idiot Basti says I am. One o' the black curls escaped the braid she wore and it bounced whenever she moved 'er 'ead. Bard ad to kick me lightly under the table, or else I wouldn't notice she is talkin' to me. Quite an insensitive way o' wakin' someone up. Effective though.

„Ehm... What?"

She smiled at me and it felt like every cheesy love poem I've ever read.

„So you aren't mute?"

From a normal guy into a blabberin' moron in less than one second. „Me? Oh... uhm... aye... I mean... nay..."

Did I mention I ain't very confident 'round girls?

„I was just asking about your name," she said, smiling again. „My name is Maria."

„That's a pretty name," I stuttered. „I'm Frederick. Uhm... pleased to meet ye."

I stood up quickly. „Gotta go, I need to check up somethin'."

The most legit excuse ever. I just checked the stables and went to my room, 'cause the day before I got my 'ands on the newest installment o' Sherlock Holmes and I was lookin' forward to readin' it all day long.

Somewhen 'round the midnight I 'eard a strange noise from the garden through my opened window. I looked outside and o' course I couldn't see shit, 'cause it was in the bloody middle o' the night, for fucks sake. What was I even thinkin'?

I ran outside and spotted someone 'urriedly leavin' one o' the flowerbeds. The figure wasn't movin' very quickly, but when I made it to the garden, it was gone. I approached the flowerbed... it was completely messed up, but for once it wasn't Finny's fault.

„What do we 'ave 'ere?" I muttered to myself, takin' a closer look.

I can't talk to girls.

I am an idiot time to time.

I find it impossible to go along with Basti.

But I 'ave one quality.

I recognise a corpse.


	7. The Lady Dressed in Sorrow

Chapter II. - The Lady Dressed in Sorrow

I felt sickness takin' over me. It took a few seconds 'til I realised what exactly is lyin' in front o' me. At first I thought it's a gigantic mutant snail, but it was a baby. Newly born, newly dead boy.

I've seen some shit, but this exceeded everythin'.

„Frederick, what are you doing here at this hour?" Basti appeared behind me outta nowhere.

I wanted to answer, but my mouth and brain disconnected, so I just pointed to the flowerbed.

„How... inconvenient"

Aye. He said exactly this 'how inconvenient', as if he saw a fly in the kitchen. If I believed in supernatural things, I'd be very unsure if he is even a 'uman.

„Is it yours?" he asked then.

I finally managed to say somethin'. „Not bloody likely... I... 'eard some noise and when I came... it was 'ere already." I felt sick. „What will... we do?"

„Go to the kitchen. I will meet you later there," he replied smoothly.

For once I didn't argue. Basti joined me a few minutes later, like he said. He 'anded me a glass o' whiskey. God knows I was fit for one.

We both stayed silent for a few minutes.

„So... what now?"

The butler was just standin' there, like a statue, seemin' as inhuman as our situation. „We cannot afford a scandal," he stated at last. „This is a very delicate situation and therefore I would like to ask you to stay discreet."

„Yeah, sure, but what will we do 'bout it? Ye know. There is a corpse and someone who is responsible for it."

„True. However, discreetness is of utmost importance in this case, as it is concerning young master and his guests. Anyway, there is nothing we can do now. I will inform young master in the morning and we will see what can be done."

I ain't sure if I 'ate or admire how cold-blooded he is all the time. It's almost intimidatin'... wait, who am I kiddin'? It's creepy as fuck!

„So... ye expect me to go to bed and pretend that nothin' has 'appened?"

„Exactly. Have your rest," he said with that annoyin' fake smile he wears so often and which means that the argument is over.

I went to get some more sleep, but, as ye probably understand, I couldn't get a minute o' it. The image o' the dead child was imprinted under my eyelids, way too visible whenever I closed my eyes.

I've seen shit, ye cannot possibly imagine, but there was somethin' hauntin' and... in some sense unbelievably beautiful 'bout that scene. Beautiful mayhaps ain't the most suitable word, but... ye understand, don't ye? It seems, that this mansion is the perfect stage for any imaginable tragedy.

I realised that it's impossible to fall asleep again and so I went outside. I was pretty sure that Basti had 'cleaned up' the crime scene, but I went there anyway... for reasons.

Ye can imagine my surprise when I spotted a figure in the same place as before. I ran there, tryin' to stay unnoticed. One would think that that was shockin' enough, but...

„Maria? What for fuck's sake are ye doin' 'ere?"

She turned to me, as pale as a dove's wing. „Oh... that's you... you scared me... I... went for a walk. Yes. For a walk."

Sure. And I am Her Majestic Granny Victoria.

„Care for a company?"

She was so obviously nervous, yet she remained as graceful as ever. „It would be lovely, if you could escort me back to the mansion."

I offered her an arm and led her (as slowly as possible) to the house. Despite being a little enchantin' chatterbox durin' the dinner, she stayed distant and careworn then, in the middle o' the night. She reminded me o' a fae from tales o' my childhood even more than ever before.

Ye can never trust a fae, but I was already under her spell.

Basti asked me to be discreet, but in this case...

„Ye were lookin' for somethin', I know."

She looked at me surprised. „Y-yes... How did you know?"

„I'm just really clever," I replied dryly. „What were ye lookin' for?" As if I needed to ask.

She looked down. „Miss couldn't find her pearl broach in the evening. I surely packed it, but it was nowhere to be found... when she went to bed I remembered that she had it in the afternoon, when she was having tea here with her mother and it occurred to me that she might have lost it here... this is so horrible... if I don't find it, I will get into troubles for sure."

Suspicion? What suspicion? These things 'appen and I felt ashamed for thinkin' anythin' bad 'bout her. After all... the baby was newborn, still covered in... things... and I noticed how slender she is, when I saw her for the first time.

There were three other possible 'mothers', but Maria? Not bloody likely.

I parted with her in the main hall and returned to my room. It was clear as a day that trying to sleep is absolutely pointless.

So... Maylene was absolutely out of question. We would notice if she was pregnant and... ehm... it was not very likely, considerin' her 'opeless affection towards Mr. Perfect Butler. (Nay, really, am I the only one who thinks he is as straight as a circle? Young midget should watch his ass, or else it might all turn illegal.)

Mrs. Cornfield. I still find it 'ard to believe someone slept with her once. No. Just no. Well... possibly, but she had no reason. I mean... if ye're a married woman o' a wealthy businessman, ye bloody enjoy bein' pregnant, 'cause it means even more pamperin' than usually and let's face it – who doesn't like bein' cared 'bout?

So... it must 'ave been miss Evangeline. I was doin' my best to avoid that thought, but... well... it only made sense. On the other hand, I understood why Basti asked me to stay silent 'bout it. She has done nothin' wrong, but her name would be dragged through dirt, if anyone knew that she has 'lost her character'. It's nothin' too uncommon, ye know. Doin' this to an innocent child is wrong on so many levels, but... it was understandable.

I thought to myself, not for the first time and definitely not for the last time, that the world we live in is sick, forcin' women to do desperate things in order to survive in society, which doesn't deserve a single damn given to it. The best environment to produce monsters. Ye know why I don't believe in demons? Just 'cause demons are a bunch o' amateurs. The greatest evil is always bloomin' in 'uman 'eart.

I remember very little from my childhood back in Éire, when there was just me and mom. But there is one scene, very clear in my 'ead. She took me with her everywhere and, thinkin' 'bout it now, she never talked to anyone, or more – no one talked to her. Once we passed by a wonderfully dressed lady and her 'usband. She told him somethin' and thy both laughed. „Yes, a slut," he said.

I didn't know this word, I was 'bout four years auld. I asked mom, what does it mean.

And for the first time ever, she didn't answer. When we came home, she told me to go and play outside. When I peeked inside, she was sitting there, at a kitchen table, cryin' her eyes out. I didn't understand.

Yeah, sure no one is interested in my angst, but I needed to make my point 'bout this topic, to explain to ye why I was decided not to say a word 'bout my strange discovery in the flowerbed. After all 'we cannot afford a scandal', can we?

_Sebastian had talents you would never expect from him. However, some of them very highly useful. To dispose of a dead body with ease was one of his more questionable abilities, but where would we end up if the one, serving to the Phantomhive family could not accomplish such a task?_

_In the morning he informed young master about the recent happenings. His little contractor did not show any sign of emotions, but the butler knew better._

„_Is something bothering you, young master?" he asked with a hint of smirk in his voice._

_The blue-eyed boy frowned, displeased with his servant's impudent behaviour. „Not at all. Just make sure that Derek will stay silent about it."_

„_Frederick. His name is Frederick."_

„_Whatever."_

Dear diary,

today, I can't even...

I had a visitor. Miss Evangeline Cornfield. I think I described her as a bleak and fat creature.

Well, when she met me in the main 'all, she looked even worse – like a ghost. Pale, shaken and sick. But what else could one expect?

She grabbed my wrist with surprisin' strength and dragged me into the drawin' room.

„You were there," she said, her voice was tremblin'. „Yesterday. I'm sure it was you... Maria said you know nothing, but I saw you there. Who else did you tell?"

I could confirm she has passed the point o' no return to sanity. Not safe. Not at all. I really felt uncomfortable 'bout bein' with her alone.

„Calm down, miss, I fail to understand ye a single word," I said slowly, tryin' to appear much more self-composed than I felt. „Take a seat. Do ye want me to prepare a cup o' tea for ye?"

Yeah, I was pretty much blabberin', but it seemed to work. She sat, breathin' 'eavily, remindin' me o' a little trapped animal.

„It was you... you were in the gardens, weren't you?" she asked, her voice still shaky, but at least a wee bit more comprehensible.

It was no use lyin' to her. „Yes, miss, that was me, but no one will know. Don't ye worry, everythin' is fine."

„B-but where is he now?"

Well... 'onestly I had no idea. „'idden." I was fairly sure that Basti hid it.

'We cannot afford a scandal.' This is the motto o' England, ain't it? It should be.

She reached out for my 'and, lookin' somewhere past me.

„Children go to heaven, don't they? Even if their mother is bad? He was so sweet, like a little angel and I could not..." her voice broke. „... I could not tie him here. It would be selfish. And then everyone would know what have I done. Promise not to tell anyone, please... I beg you! You are a good man, I know it, have mercy with me."

I knelt to her, taking her 'and very carefully, not really sure what to do. She looked at me with her bloodshot grey eyes. Her words made way too little sense. Was she even aware o' who is she talkin' to? Surely not. Bloody 'ell, she was nuts.

„Do not tell anyone, I will give you anything you want, but do not tell anyone. No one would believe either of us. My little boy is in heaven now. I want to go to him, but he says that I cannot, because I have been bad and I would go to hell. But I behave now, do I not? Look how good I am."

She spoke quickly, almost feverishly and she suddenly looked so young. Like a lost child, in dress a bit too big for her. How did she hide her pregnancy? It's peculiar, how some girls get twice their size and some stay pretty much the same. I've seen enough o' both back in East End.

„Miss, ye don't know what are ye saiyn'. Do ye want me to call Maria?"

She nodded, chokin' on her tears. What would ye do in my place? Would ye know what to say, what to do?  
I stood up, headin' to the door, when Basti appeared outta nowhere. He spared miss Evangeline just a quick glance, evaluatin' the situation.

„Could you tell me, what is this fuss all about?" he asked me quietly, as composed as ever. Usually he drives me up the wall, but then I found his lack of personality almost comfortin'.

I whispered quickly: „That baby belonged to her and she recognised me, God knows how and she went fully lunatic when she saw me. She raves 'bout stuff... I asked her if she wants her maid and she said yes, so I'm goin' for her... 'opefully she'll know what to do."

He nodded, not arguin' for once. „Do so. I will keep an eye on her until you are back."

Findin' Maria was a piece o' cake, as she was lookin' for her miss as well. I quickly explained to her that 'miss Evangeline is not feelin' well and asks for her company'... I said it nicely, don't ye think?

Maria sighed and adjusted the ribbon in her hair. I noticed a beautiful ring on her left hand – pretty thing, but most likely fake. „Well, then I shall see her... wait, Frederick... did she say anything else to you?"

Her gaze had a strange effect on me, encouragin' me to tell her everythin'.

„I would be... _most grateful_ if you could keep this little incident to yourself," she started meaningfully. „Miss Evangeline's nerves are very sensitive and... she is not a liar, but she sometimes says things that are not true, so there is no need to pay attention to them. Her family do their best to take care of her and she is not dangerous, her mental condition is just not very stable. It would break her father's heart if he had to send her into an... institution."

She was talkin' seriously, lookin' me in the eyes the whole time. I was hypnotised. This explained everythin'.

I felt so 'onoured that Maria trusted me with this sensitive family matter. She had no reason to lie, as ye simply don't go 'round and spread this kind o' gossips.

So when I led her to the drawin' room, it was sure that everythin' will be 'kay.

…

Not bloody likely.


	8. The Merchant of London

Chapter III. - The Merchant of London

I brought Maria to miss Evangeline, who calmed down a bit. Well. She was just sittin' in an armchair, starin' in fron o' her. She looked like a broken toy. Basti bowed to her (not that she was payin' any attention to him) and 'eaded to the door, beckonin' me to join him.  
I did, as I though there is little else for me to do.

„How pitiful," he remarked. If I didn't know him any better, I'd almost think he gives a fuck.

„Sad, but not so unusual. There are many girls like her outside and she has, if nothin', someone to take care 'bout her. It's a sad story, but quite simple."

„You are right. There are no questions left. Everything was explained in a satisfying manner," Basti said innocently. He said it so innocently that it was suspicious.

„Ye think it ain't so clear?" The butler, unlike me, barely ever said anythin' without a good reason.

He smirked and left me alone in the corridor. I went to the stables, doin' my daily duties, thinkin'. I like to occupy myself with somethin' else while doin' it. I had that strange feelin' that I missed somethin' vital. Somethin' she said... not Maria, but miss Evangeline. Though she was just repeatin' that she was bad...  
Aye.  
„My little boy is in heaven now. I want to go to him, but he says that I cannot, because I have been bad and I would go to hell."  
Her words were stuck in my 'ead. „He says that I cannot." Was she referrin' to her baby boy? Ye know, like in that song... The Lady Dressed in Green... It's 'bout a girl that has an illegitimate child, kills it, buries it and so on. Then she walks 'round a cemetery and sees a beautiful child, which is actually a ghost o' her own and tells her that she is to go to hell. Ye may know it as 'The Cruel Mother' or somethin'. This song exists in many versions. So... in her delusion it would make sense that she was seein' things. And, accordin' to Maria, she was very prone to that.  
Anyway, they were leavin' the estate in a few 'ours, so it was pointless to think 'bout it anymore and it was unlikely that I'd ever see them again, even though... I really wanted to meet Maria again. If she'd agree, that's it.  
That girl caught my eye. Not only she was pretty, but also clever. A good companion for an unstable miserable bein' called miss Evangeline. I caught myself dreamin' once again 'bout her and her eyes as shinin' as her ring. Would she freak out if I tried to kiss her? Well... probably yes.  
On the other 'and... mayhaps... she liked me too. She showed me more trust than anyone else ever did and let me into so sensitive things, even though she barely knew me.  
Wait.  
What the fuck?  
She didn't know me, yet she told me things that could ruin her employers' reputation.  
That meant that she is either actually 'alf-retarded, or that she wants to cover somethin' much worse.  
A family matter.

„I've been looking for you everywhere," she said, smilin'. I'd expect her to stay at miss Evangeline's side, but whatever.

I nodded, tryin' not to look at her too much. It did weird things to my brain. „Yeah? Do I 'ave to prepare the carriage already?"

She shook her 'ead. Black curls. Black curls everywhere. „No, I... wanted to see you."

„'ere I am," I muttered. What did ye come for then?"

She approached me, lookin' me in the eyes the whole time. I was lost. „I wanted to thank you. You were such a good friend to me and miss Evangeline alike and we are both very grateful that our little secret is safe in your hands. It would break her father's heart, if he knew. She is everything to him."

I could catch her scent... sweet, soft, unobtrusive... somethin' like elderberries. Maria's absolute ignorance o' personal space was pleasant and a wee bit intimidatin'. I can't remember bein' so close to a girl before. Pathetic, ain't it?

„Sure, I ain't goin' to talk 'bout it anywhere, I promise."

„I count on you," she said softly and then, somethin' impossible 'appened. She closed her eyes and quickly pecked me on the lips. She was gone before I could react.

After that I didn't dare to come anywhere nearby. I could watch them all in the garden. Young master, Basti, Mr. Cornfield, Mrs. Cornfield and miss Evangeline, who seemed to be stable again.  
I could watch them discreetly from the library's window. There was no reason to worry 'bout that poor lady anymore. Her parents obviously cared for her deeply, especially her father. He was attentive and one could see how deeply he cares for her. Dads are often fixed at their daughters, ye know. My dad (actually a step-father) was just the same. He never said a single bad word to my sis', when she was still alive. Though... he never said a bad word to anyone, as far as I remember.  
Miss Evangeline's behaviour still puzzled me. Maria didn't make that much fuss 'bout her, yet her presence had a calmin' effect on her, however whenever her father turned to her, she showed various signs o' discomfort and anxiety.  
I started to wonder how could she even get pregnant, if he was always so attentive.  
But what if...  
… no, I didn't want to finish that thought.  
It's not like these things do not 'appen. It's just. Well. Sick. Wrong. Disgusting. And perhaps...

„Imagine this. Mr. Cornfield, a pillar of the society, honourable gentleman has a daughter. She is his little princess, but he finds a weird way how to show her his affection. Her mother knows nothin' – mayhaps she chose to be ignorant? Mayhaps her daughter even told her, but would ye believe a mentally unstable little girl? On the other 'and, nobody except Maria ever said that she is a wee bit crazy. It's more than likely that the maid ain't as loyal to her missey as she should. After all, it's the master o' the 'ouse who pays her – her payment and a bit on the side for bein' so... 'elpful.  
Poor Evangeline has no one to go to and so she stays silent 'bout everythin'. Who would believe her anyway?  
It all gets tangled when he gets her pregnant. She needs to 'ide it, 'cause ye know... the author wouldn't admit his share on it, if ye know what I mean. When her day comes, she is unprepared... maybe it came sooner than she expected? Doesn't matter actually.  
She needs to get rid o' the body. She is panickin', ashamed and desperate, so she wants to bury it. Too bad that someone, and by that someone I mean myself, couldn't sleep and disturbed in the worst moment possible. She runs 'ome and tells everythin' to her 'loyal' companion. Maria, as cold-blooded as she is wants to finish Evangeline's work, but the baby is nowhere to be found and I'm still there. It's essential for her to keep me silent and so she tells me a bunch o' tales. After all, she is pretty, she is persuasive, who wouldn't believe her? She doesn't know that ye know and now the question... how does that sound to ye?"

„What exactly do you mean by 'persuasive'?" the butler inquired. I didn't exactly feel the need to describe my first kiss to him o' all people.

„Nothin' too scandalous. And the rest?"

We were in the kitchen. I caught Basti there when he was preparin' lunch, 'cause I needed to share my thoughts with someone and he was involved already, so...

„This theory would explain everything," he said at last. „But it is just a theory, you cannot prove it, can you?"

Yeah. He had a point. „No, I can't. Mayhaps if miss Evangeline spoke up... which ain't very likely. If she kept silent 'bout it for so long... Damn, Basti... ye should've been there when she talked to me. She thinks that she is the one guilty. That's it's all her fault. Would ye belive that? She won't get rid o' him 'til he's dead... and I can't imagine a judge who would sentence her."

„Not to mention that he is not a beneficial business partner. Young master has decided to end their dealings. The trouble is that their contract is almost bulletproof," the butler noted meaningfully.

„Are ye implyin' that nobody would miss him?"

Basti smirked. „Of course not, I would not dare." He turned back to his cooking. „Frederick, do you like games?"

„What do ye mean?"

„That I have an idea for which your cooperation would be greatly welcome."

„I love it when ye talk dirty to me. What's the plan?"

„First of all it is necessary to prolong their visit, which is easy, and help from miss Evangeline would be most welcome. Do you think you can be persuasive as well?"

_It was such a pity that Mrs. Cornfield and miss Cornfield's maid fell ill out of sudden. Their condition was so bad that Earl Phantomhive offered the family to stay until they both feels better.  
Sebastian checked the time on his pocket watch. It was a hell to get miss Evangeline to cooperate, but the driver proved himself to be quite a smooth talker when he needed to.  
It was almost the time.  
The butler made sure that Mr. Cornfield will have enough to drink, just enough to feel adventurous at night.  
Miss Evangeline was in the bed and Frederick underneath it with a gun ready. Just in case._

_„Very well then," said the black-haired man to himself softly. His observation post was next to the window in lady's room, behind the long curtain._

_The girl was sitting on the bed, shaking nervously. For such a weak creature she agreed with their insane plane quite courageously. They could just wait._

_The door opened..._

_„How is daddy's little girl?" Mr. Cornfield entered the room and closed the door again._

_„It is late," she replied shakily._

_He came to the bed and sat on it. „We had so little time to spend together lately."_

_Frederick heard some strange sounds. „D-don't... p-please... d-don't!"_

_„Hush, my little angel. I do it because I love you. Do you love your dad?"_

_The butler and the driver were both waiting for the signal they and the girl agreed on._  
_Evangeline nodded. She did not want her father to get into problems, but at the same time she wished desperately to stop his abusive behaviour._

_„You see, dear. You like it anyway, don't you? Now be a good girl and take off your clothes."_

_She looked him into eyes. Never before she dared to say anything, because she was alone. „No."_

_One syllable was enough to turn Cornfield's mood upside down. He hit her. „You've got some nerve! Do you want to be bad? Is that what you want?!"_

_Both servants were still waiting for the signal, but it seemed as if the girl surrendered._

_„Help," she whispered. He was on top of her, tearing her nightgown off her pale shoulders. She fainted._

_„Sir, may I help you?"_

Do ye know what is weird? How little I recall o' that night. One would expect that I'll remember it, but since she said the signal and Basti came outta his hidin' spot, it's all kinda blurry.  
Basti told me to stay under the bed unless he directly calls for me.  
I 'eard his footsteps. Perfectly measured, as always.  
It's strange, but I'd swear I 'eard somethin' like... wings? And then there was a loud bang.

„Frederick, get out. Our guest had an accident," Basti said smoothly.

I was out in a matter o' seconds. „What 'appened?"

„It seems he tripped and fell from the window..."

„B-but..." … the window was closed, wasn't it? „Basti, are ye implyin', that that man fell out o' a closed window without 'armin' it in any way?" I looked over at miss Evangeline, She was in a state no stranger should witness. „That poor thin' fainted."

„Let her have some sleep," he said, unusually softly and covered her with her blanket. Then we left.

The official story is, that he had a drink too much and by a mistake went to his daughter's room, which was next to the one he shared with his wife. As the furniture was arranged in a different way there, he tripped over a chair and fell out of the window, which was opened, because the night was unusually warm.  
Find a hole in it. Everyone believed it.  
What 'appened to the rest o' the family? Well, let's say that mayhaps a word or two slipped me and suddenly Maria was unemployed. Not to mention that miss Evangeline's lost pearl broach was mysterious found in her things. I 'ave nothin' to do with it. Not at all.  
Mrs. Crowley became one o' those 'onourable widows. Her life didn't change much.  
Miss Evangeline went to visit their relatives in America and stayed her. As far as I know, she eventually got married. She wrote a letter to me and Basti. Really. I still 'ave it, 'cause he said he didn't even remember her. Strange man, don't ye think?

Personally, I don't like this case and I wouldn't even write 'bout it, but then I realised... these things can 'appen to anyone and so mayhaps... think 'bout it.  
If someone does somethin' like Cornfield did, it ain't the victim's fault.

It ain't a family matter.


	9. Good Company: Behind the Scene Once More

_Ciel, Sebastian, Maylene, Finny, Bard, Tanaka and Frederick were sitting around a table. The atmosphere could be described only as tense and the air was thick with anticipation._

„_Now to the point of our meeting."_

_The maid sitting at Sebastian's left blushed deeply and she seemed to be ready to start sobbing. „I didn't break it... well, I did, but I didn't intend to, it was a mistake..."_

_Everyone looked at her, their thoughts for once united in confused 'What the hell is she talking about?'._

„_No, this is not why I have summoned you," continued then the boy smoothly. „We are facing a matter much more serious."_

_The servants looked at the black-haired butler, hoping that he would be kind enough to kindly explain what is this all about. He smiles politely._

„_Young master is concerned about the obvious lack of reviews."_

_Frederick, always in need to oppose Sebastian shrugged. „Well, that ain't our fault. Everyone just faves and leaves, it ain't like we can force them to write anythin'."_

„_We have come to the conclusion that it is all_ your_ fault. You are a very poor narrator and only an OC, which is something frowned upon in this fandom."_

„_Oh, great. What do ye suggest now?"_

_The butler presented them a paper covered in his neat and elegant handwriting. „Well, first of all, we need to change the narrator. Finny, now it is your duty."_

_The young gardener's eyes sparkled happily._

„_Then – the focus will turn to me and my sexy ass. Other servants will conveniently stay as unnoticed as usually though. Next – no murders, unless they are useful for the sake of yaoi. Then we should also describe more of young master's fragile, porcelain-like, white, soft, smooth and angelic face. Adjectives. Bitches love adjectives. Oh, young master, we are definitely fucking in the next chapters, so I would recommend you to acquire some detachable cat ears. It seems they are very popular in this fandom."_

_Young master stood up, his usual cold expression turned into fury. „I am not going to be your... whore for comments!"_

_Maylene blushed. „I will, if it's really necessary... uhm..."_

_The driver cleared his throat. „Well... why won't we just ask for some reviews politely? I mean... how can we know what would our non-existent readers like to see if they don't tell us?"_

**Stop characters' abuse. Write reviews.**

(Yes, I am willing to take your suggestions into serious consideration. Really.)


	10. A Study in Gray

**A Study in Grey**

It's unquestionable that throwin' a generally shy six years auld child into one o' the busiest cities in the world can't bring anythin' good. Since I saw London for the first time I knew that there is no chance o' peace for me ever again.

London ain't a friendly city and there is no place like East End – well, mayhaps except purgatory. Actually, if I had to compare it to somethin', I'd compare it to a snake, tyin' yer ankles and 'ands together, suffocatin', poisonin' and killin' ye in the end, when yer pain reaches the level which should raise the hell, but doesn't raise even neighbors.

But eventually, ye learn to cope with all o' that. Fate runs over ye like a train and ye spit into its face and laugh, as ye can do either that or surrender and there ain't anythin' more pitiful than witnessin' where submission leads.

Wanna learn more 'bout it? It ain't so hard. Just leave yer comfortable 'ouse one evenin' and take a stroll through those streets ye choose not to see and ye'll read 'bout it in every beggar's outstretched 'and, in the eyes o' prostitutes that were children a few days ago, in faces o' parents killin' they children 'cause they can't feed them.

Ye can try to imagine it. I don't 'ave to.

In a way, the Phantomhive mansion is just the same. There are too many shadows in its corners and too many questions 'angin' in the air. When ye live like me, ye learn to notice odd things, 'cause it may as well save yer life. I've actually developed somethin' like 'oh-fuck' sense, warnin' me against dodgy situations. Since I met Basti I can't use this sense a lot, as it's practically yellin' at me all the time.

Well, 'onestly, if I could afford it, I'd run as quickly as possible, but... well... in a certain economical situation ye have to dispense with things like safety or independence.

On the other 'and, I know I 'ave no right to complain. I kept repeatin' to myself that I 'ave a bed to sleep in, food to eat and rather safe work. Grin and bear it. That's the spirit. Everyone else seems to be 'appy 'ere. Well, except young midget, but who knows what the hell is actually up with him.

Where lies the problem? In me, obviously. I like people, but I don't believe them, 'cause they're all in fact... just the same.

Fine, my intention wasn't to turn this into an opinion essay, so I better get on with the fuckin' story, aye?

_The gardener known as Finnian tiptoed into young master's study, carefully holding a small package wrapped in creamy white paper topped with a huge bow in the most horrifying shade of pink. _

"_Young master, this arrived," he explained and placed the box on the table._

"_Is that so?" noted the boy, raising an eyebrow. "I was fairly sure that post is not delivered on Sundays. And why didn't Sebastian bring it in?"_

_Finny turned bright red. "It arrived y-yesterday, I met the postman outside, b-but I forgot about it," he said quietly, looking as if he was about to cry. "I am... s-so sorry."_

_Ciel was not even surprised, as his servants could be undoubtedly classified as a bunch of airheads._

_He dismissed the miserable little gardener and glanced at the box, innocently laying on the table. There was only one person which would send it to him all wrapped in sugary sweetness and bows and that was his mostly tolerated and sometimes a little bit loved fiancée Elizabeth._

_Ciel almost smiled when the generally distasteful package revealed an adorable box, carefully created by a skilled artisan. _

_It was round, made of dark wood, decorated with elaborate silver flowers and he almost caught himself being curious about it contents. He opened it and the tiniest of smiles crept up his lips, when he realised that it is a music box, playing a sweet, graceful and enchanting melody. Under the lid there was a tiny doll turning around and around to the music and he could not help himself but watch her._

_His heart suddenly felt so free of all its worries and pains and he suddenly wished that this feeling shall never stop._

* * *

Basti gathered us all in the kitchen – Mr. Tanaka, Bard, May, Finny and me. He seemed to be a wee bit worried, which is somethin' one rarely ever gets to witness.

"I have summoned you all, because you need to be informed about young master's condition. It seems that he fell sick and needs a proper rest. For we are not quite certain what kind of disease crept upon him, I have to ask you to stay away from him. By all means. Is it understood?"

I ain't sure if it was just my imagination, but I'd swear he was adressin' mainly me.

"As ye wish," I said, standin' up, 'cause there was a certain need I needed to relieve in my room. The need to read, o' course.

He stopped me, dismissin' the others. "Please, if you may, I would like to talk to you."

When they left I sat down again. The butler seemed to be kinda off that day – don't get me wrong, he was just as proper and whatever as usually, but today it seemed somehow... forced.

"Go on. Impress me. Somethin' 'appened, right?"

"If I ask you how did you know, you will explain it in the most insulting way, so I do not think I want to ask. But yes, you are right. Something happened to young master and it would save me a good deal of time if you could help me investigate."

"Ye really asked me to 'elp ye? Must be serious. Anyway, what is goin' on 'ere?"

"Young master is just sitting in his study, listening to a music box I have not seen around before. He does not respond, it feels as if he was caught in some sort of trance."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Ye mean that he might be 'ypnotised by a song? Seriously? Can I see him?"

Basti turned to the kitchen counter, mindlessly playin' with the cuff o' his shirt. "Obviously not. What if you were affected by it as well? Personally, I would not mind, however, right now you are more useful awake for once."

"Love ye too. I can plug my ears, so I can't 'ear it... though... ye yerself don't seem to be affected by that song. How does that sound to ye?"

_The butler tiptoed into his master's study, followed by the driver, who was curiously looking at their little employer, half-sitting half-lying in a high-backed chair. _

_Ciel seemed to be drowning in spheres we may not catch a glimpse of. His eyes were fixed on the box, watching its every movement. A smile full of peace and childlike innocence was gracing his slightly parted lips. _

_He did not show any signs of noticing the servants._

_The dark-haired Irish approached him. „Young master? Are ye feelin' well?" _

_He could have stayed silent just as well. The boy did not even look at him. Frederick shook his shoulder gently. "Young master?"_

"_Basti, why won't we just turn it off?" the driver asked and grabbed the box. In that second the boy changed dramatically. His face twisted into a grimace full of fury and animalistic anger. He stood up quickly and punched the driver with strength you would not expect of someone so small and fragile. He dropped the box in surprise and the child snatched it. Then he sat again, holding the box tightly._

_Sebastian softly patted Frederick's elbow, signalising him to leave the room._

_They sat together in the kitchen, the driver had removed his earplugs already. The kitchen, usually the warmest place in the house felt strange and cold. _

"_What can we do now?" Frederick asked, rubbing his injured cheek. _

"_It is necessary to find a remedy for his state. Because young master's well-being is my highest priority, I will take care of it. However, there is something else. As I said, this box is new and the most likely explanation is that someone has sent it to young master. Do you think you could find out who and why?"_

_The Irish nodded. "I can try, but... how much time do we 'ave left?"_

"_Not too much."_

_And it sounded like a death sentence._


	11. The Devil of Music

**All the cool kids write an author's note. So... well... one more chapter and the Good Company is over. I guess I'll miss it, after all, I spent a good deal of time with my little Irishman and somehow grew fond of him.  
Anyway, thanks everyone who still reads it and... well... have fun. **

* * *

**The Devil of Music**

I doubt that the English law knows a proper name for a murder where nobody dies. Damn, I can't think o' one!

With my ears plugged I returned to young midget's study. As long as he 'ad the box, he didn't give a damn who is there with him. His desk was neatly organised for someone so busy, except for a piece of paper and a bow in such a sweet colour that my teeth hurt just when I remember it. But not a single word attached to it.

O' course, I could only guess it was from a young girl, but after all, it was the only clue I 'ad, so i could just as well follow it. 'cause Basti disappeared somewhere, I went to Mr. Tanaka for a piece of information. I was kinda nervous, for I barely ever talked to that gentleman, but even without that I knew I want to go alon' well with him. He gave the impression o' a real gentleman, yet unlike Basti, he never seemed to look down on anyone. Also, I had to be extra careful, as nobody knew what's up with Phantomhive and Basti didn't want anyone to find out.

He was doin'... stuff in the greenhouse, but he agreed to answer me a few questions. The most awkward first:

"I just... are there any girls youn' master knows? I mean... guess I 'eard somethin', but I wanna be sure. Wouldn't want to cause another clanger..."

He smiled kindly. "I see. You might be referring to young master's fiancée, lady Elizabeth Middleford. She visits us very often and therefore you ought to know who she is."

A fiancée? Oh lawd, seems that that kiddo will get laid sooner than me. Kinda depressin'.

"Lady Middleford, 'kay. How does she look like? …. just so I recognise her for sure."

I was curious, sue me.

"Lady Elisabeth is just about young master's height, green eyed with long blonde hair. You certainly cannot mistake her for anyone else," replied the elderly man calmly.

My mind drew an image of a lovely young woman, forced to marry youn' master. Certainly a real lady, elegant, beautiful and quiet. Somehow I can't imagine Phantomhive toleratin' any imperfection.

I suppose that when the boy received the box, he didn't expect any harm and – considering that the wrappin' paper was o' a good quality – the packagin' suggested that someone put a lot o' care into it, so it was only logical his fiancée sent it to him. But why? Was she so desperate to get rid o' him?

A beautiful young lady bound to be with someone she doesn't love... mayhaps even havin' her eye on someone else?

God, mind, shut up.

'owever, it was necessary to interview her. If I only knew where to find her...

_The shop was seemingly empty. It could be abandoned for years, but the butler knew better. On the other hand, he was not exactly in the right mood to fully appreciate any games the shop owner might have tucked up his sleeve._

_"Undertaker, if you could give me a minute or two of your precious time, I would be most grateful," Sebastian said. Such a pity it sounded more like 'come here, or you are dead' than a polite request._

_"Oh my, if it isn't Mr. Butler... and all alone..." The silver haired man's voice sounded like sand caught in bones of a skeleton in a God forgotten desert. "Finally bit his leash in two?"_

_"I came for information," retorted the butler briskly and gave a slight bow to the elderly shop owner._

_Undertaker giggled through the whole time Sebastian was explaining what happened, but it seemed that the whole matter caught his interest._

_"Peculiar, really... And you say he does not seem to have any interest in anything except that one thing? Is it really such a change?" he grinned like a content tiger. "On the other hand, it reminds me of something... Have you heard the rumours about the Williams family? Such an unfortunate matter. They left two little ones behind, who knows what happened to them... so little, the younger one could not even speak yet... I took care of their parents, but even so, the coffins had to be closed. It was nothing for delicate eyes..."_

_The butler was tempted to ask for some details, yet he knew that he came for different answers._

"_Is there a remedy?"_

_Bubbling laughter filled the room. "Remedy? Oh, no. At least nothing I'd know about."_

Don't ask me how. Just don't. But I got the address.

I was just standin' there, in front of the Middleford mansion, thinkin' what to do 'n' what to say. 'Hi, Imma Phantomhive's driver and I came to give ye a bunch o' uncomfortable and possibly insultin' questions,' somehow didn't sound right.

I made the effort to look presentable, if nothin', and I was sure that if I try to be polite, it can't backfire in any way...

It seemed to me that some carefully 'andled truth is in order and therefore I introduced myself as detective Martyn, comin' to look into a matter concernin' Earl Phantomhive.

A quiet maid led me to a richly and tastefully decorated parlour. Everythin' was clean and in perfect order, even the folds on curtains seemed to follow a certain pattern.

And then there was THAT woman. If that was lady Elizabeth... well played, Phantomhive, well played. She could be thirty – mayhaps less, mayhaps more, but damn, she was hot. Not yer average 'hot', but... dangerously irresistibly hot. I 'ave learnt my lesson after that embarassin' incident with Maria, don't worry. Yet...

She looked at me and I could almost taste her disapproval. I bowed, nervous like a schoolboy.

"Good morning, m'lady. I apologise for dist-"

She gestured me to shut up 'n' sit down.

"Detective Martyn," she said slowly and it sounded like an insult. Somethin' in her voice encouraged one to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, as ridiculous as it sounds. "You do not look like a detective."

My 'oh-fuck-you're-dead' sense pointed out affably that she ain't that kind o' woman ye can lie to. On the other 'and, I could either be a detective or Ciel Phantomhive's servant. And nobody listens to servants.

"I get told this a lot. 'ow... however, I am here to ask you a few questions concerning ye...your fiance."

She gave me a long searchin' look. "Excuse me? Who are you talking about?"

"I mean Earl Ciel Phantomhive," I replied nervously, knowin' I said somethin' I shouldn't 'ave said.

She rang for a maid and exchanged a few words with her. Then she turned back to me and said coldly with a slight impact on the second part:

"I suppose that you came to talk to my daughter, _detective_."

Oh well.

When the right lady arrived, I couldn't 'elp but wonder, how much pink can one individual wear at the same time. Lady Elizabeth was the exact opposite o' young master. Bubbly, bright and cheerful to the point o' bein' annoyin'.

'owever, I tried to remain as professional as possible. Too bad that it was quite complicated to get a coherent answer outta her, as 'oldin' her attention for more than ten seconds would be possible only if she was dead. And even then the result would be iffy.

After a good deal o' time perfectly wasted on her I realised that she plans to kill him by bein' by his side 'til he gives up and dies.

_The young Irish met the butler just as he was returning back to the mansion._

_"Ye got anythin'?" he asked curiously._

_The butler shook his head, obviously not very pleased with the turn of events. "Nothing so far, except that a case of striking resemblance occurred quite a time ago. Williams family, does it sound familiar to you?"_

_"Wasn't it that family they found a few months ago? There were two adults and a few servants found in a drawin' room. Advanced decay... no signs o' struggle, just rottin' flesh. Or so I 'eard. If I remember correctly, they 'ad two wee children, but they disappeared along with some other servants and a 'andsome sum in valuables. Mayhaps it was in the newspaper? Can't recall right now..."_

_"Why it is not surprising you know about it?" said Sebastian slowly. "Anyway, do you know something new about the matter?"_

_"Nay, I followed the clues, but it was pointless. And when I say pointless I means a fuckin' waste o' time." With that he took out a a terribly wrinkled piece of wrapping paper._

_"Is there an address on it?" asked the black-haired man._

_"Nay, there wasn't... wait... if there wasn't... and I didn't find any... second layer o' paper... ye mean..."_

_The butler and the driver exchanged a surprised look._

_"Basti," started Frederick hesitantly and the butler for once did not correct him. "Basti, do ye think it could be done by someone in the 'ouse?"_


End file.
